Frozen Fields
by Scorpia710
Summary: On the verge of giving up, because how much more can he really give to a world that won't give back? Alex resigns himself to healing in a safe-house with Wolf as his guard. But maybe, through this wary friendship, Alex can find another reason to live.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: Not my characters, nor is it my world. I simply borrow the characters for my own little, twisted playhouse. **Crocodile Tears Spoilers Ahead.**

He stumbled across the field. The long grass stubbornly standing back up as soon as he removed his foot to move slowly on. The extremely frayed, and wet ends of his blue jeans dragged across the ground; picking up dirt and grass seed.

Breathing becoming more ragged as he proceeded, Alex looked up at the line of trees that he'd been trying to reach for the past ten minutes. Warm liquid continued to leak over his grasping fingers, and with reluctance Alex stopped to check his arm.

Swaying slightly from dehydration and pure exhaustion, Alex peeled back his fingers from the wound and examined it. His already queasy stomach clenched and Alex looked away with a wince. A wimp he was not, but combined with the sights he had seen in the past few days and the ugly display his arm made, he felt that vomiting was not out of the question.

Coiling his sticky fingers back around his upper arm, Alex re-applied the pressure and struggled on.

Swallowing hard, Alex realized how dry his mouth was. Blisters seemed to have formed on the insides of his cheeks and his tongue felt heavy.

He remembered the feel of rubbing still warm blood all over his body, the corpse of a snake lying not to far away, and how disgusting he'd felt. He'd wanted to stop the mission long before then, but he hadn't.

There had been many other times where failure seemed likely, even predicted…but he hadn't stopped then. It was these memories, horrible as they were, that kept Alex moving. Bloody water, where his co-workers had once been. The betrayal of someone he'd begun to rely on. Jerking back as something with terrible momentum forced itself into his chest.

The feeling of his very existence dripping away, and him, lying upon the hot pavement…drip…drip…a puddle had started to form beneath him….

Alex almost tripped the next moment, jolting him out of remembrance. Though he'd told his feet to move they'd refused, and his body had tried to move forward while his numbing feet stayed put.

Trying to blink the image of his bordering death experience away, and finding that much difficult, Alex pulled his unused hand into a rough fist. His overgrown and bitten fingernails made indentions in the calloused skin.

Feeling of the verge of something, though he could not think of what that might be, Alex dragged up another memory to reinforce his faith.

Crocodiles snapped at his feet, he could _feel_ how close they were. The humid air that brushed past his ankles easily mistaken for their rotting breath…and then, he remembered something worse.

The horrible sensation of warm blood spattering his face, watching his angry and frustrated eyes…become lifeless. Rahim had known Alex for less than a few days, but he seemed to have cared about his well being, something that Alex had not expected, he had _learned _not to expect it…then, he'd been murdered.

Gritting his teeth, Alex closed his eyes as blood entered his mouth. The blisters in his mouth had started bleeding. He spat and opened his eyes. Here the grass wasn't growing very well. The earth was muddy from where a spring bubbled up not too far away.

Blearily Alex examined the swash of dark red and how it was quickly being drawn to mix with the muddy ground.

It reminded him of dead things, dirty places…stuff he should never had witnessed, places he never should have been. Where was MI6 when he needed them? They couldn't continue to use him if he was dead, or did they even care if he died?

Did he, himself, care?

The meadow's floor seemed to be getting closer. Blades of grass suddenly appeared larger than Alex himself, the sky played tricks with his mind as he blinked and realized it had tilted.

But, no…the sky hadn't tipped over, he had. Fair eyebrows drew together as Alex tried to sort out this puzzle. His arm screamed in pain, he had landed on it, perhaps breaking the bone.

Alex blinked, but did not move. Instead, he studied how the treetops reached the sky, the line that separated them as two different things blurred. Something kept nudging at him mentally, but the urgency had faded and his body ached to just _stop thinking_.

A curious thought came to him, and Alex turned it over in his mind. _This is what they want, isn't it, _an old and weary voice questioned, _then, let them have it. _

Alex let his eyes fall closed but held on to consciousness. His surroundings seemed to bear down upon him like a heavy quilt, keeping him pressed against the ground.

Somewhere in the distance there was life. He could hear wildlife varying from birds to bullfrogs, though their lively sounds seemed muted. Alex wondered what he looked like to them, lying prone as he was.

Was he a meal to be shared with family? Something to be avoided, or had he already been put out of their mind as dead and therefore not worth worrying over?

Would others cast thoughts of him aside the same way, Alex wondered unfocusedly. When his patching appearances at Brookland stopped altogether, who would care enough to ask where he was and what had happened to him?

Something wet the back of Alex's head, causing his overgrown hair to lay flat. Blood? Alex wasn't aware of a cut back there. The flow of cool liquid crept under his collar and down his side. Shivering abruptly at the sensation, Alex felt his eyes flicker open, surprise echoed in their depths.

The cold seemed to slightly diminish the haziness that had corrupted his brain.

Mud. That was what he'd landed in. Mud caused by the steady flow of water.

Alex's mouth ached as he pieced it together. Water, there was water. His usable arm stretched out, fingers digging into the sopping grass and mud. It oozed between his fingers, burning the cuts along his arm.

Recognizing that the water was coming from behind him, Alex heaved himself up enough to push his good arm underneath his body. Then, angling himself, Alex used his arm and feet to crawl along the side of the stream.

He could see where the water bubbled up from the ground. It was a sight that brought extreme comfort and chased away the demons that almost had him giving up his life.

Alex reached the bubbling brook. His thirst overrode any thoughts on cleanliness, and he cupped the water in a shaking and filthy hand before drinking.

Several more handfuls followed and though Alex knew he was a gulping, and panting mess, he didn't stop until his stomach felt full. Then, Alex wiped his face before rolling onto his back.

Every symbolism of water he'd heard before had never made as much sense as it did now. His vision seemed to be returning to its usual sharpness. He noticed the trees that lined the valley seemed to be made up of a multitude of colors, even the sky seemed brighter in this new found awareness.

The spring he had drank so gratefully from had soaked the entire back and partial side of his clothes and bits of grass clung to his damp arms.

Alex had been granted another chance. Though still bleeding from his injuries and heavy with fatigue, he felt that ever living desire to go the extra mile and do the unthinkable-to piss off his enemies if nothing else.

With his legs aching from where they joined his hips to his feet, Alex climbed up off the ground. The first few steps would be better classified as stumbling, and Alex felt as if he was leaning forward towards the ground he'd just managed to pull himself off of.

It seemed so far away, but Alex measured the distance until he was out of the extremely large clearing and decided it would only take a few more minutes-if his capturers (a group of men that specialized in kidnapping and assassination), did not go against their promise and shoot him.

They'd been promised a very large sum for Alex's capture and murder, money which they had not received once grabbing him from outside his friend's house.

That had been over a week ago. MI6 had taken their time finding him, but once they had, a deal had been made. Release their agent without harming him further, and they would cover over their actions committed in the past.

Arrogant in their belief of just how much they could get away with, they had released Alex…but not before injuring him and making him go a few days with very little water. It was their hope that he would die in the field.

Sons of Saints, which was what the group called themselves, had made it clear that the land belonged to them and that they had guards posted. SAS men waited just beyond the trees for Alex, but should any of them try to help him make his way across the field, they and their youngest agent would be shot.

And so Alex thought of about how close he was, and tried to ignore the feeling of eyes watching him, most likely through rifle scopes.

A shadow fell over him and Alex struggled to lift his head up. He'd managed to reach the very edge of the tree line, there was a steep incline ahead and a wall of tall bushes. He hoped that was all he would face before reaching the people MI6 had sent, because honestly, he didn't know if he could handle much more.

Leaves and twigs crackled under his shoes, and he reached up for a branch to help him up the incline. With a sharp, startling _crack_ it broke in his hand and he felt himself fall back to the foliage covered ground below.

Annoyed and slightly breathless, Alex struggled to his feet and pulled himself up the incline being more cautious about what limbs he trusted to help him. His concentration was not what it usually was though, and when Alex reached to top of the incline, he failed to notice the exposed tree roots.

Stepping forward, Alex found himself caught off guard right before sprawling into the tall shrubs.

The thin stems scratched his face, and he fell through the wall of shrubs landing on the edge of the road they hid from view. It was a gravel road, and Alex winced as the many small stones dug into his palms. He panted slightly, the adrenaline rush that had helped him get here by blocking some pain was wearing off quickly.

For a long moment he just lay there, an arm cradling his head as he allowed himself to calm down. He heard the sound of gravel crunching under many heavy footsteps and wondered how he'd managed to miss the people closing in on him.

One person came to stop in front of him, and Alex looked up warily.

"The whole, 'you get injured and I save your arse' thing is getting old, Cub." Wolf grinned at him, sarcasm not quite managing to hide the worried look in his eyes.

"Funny," Alex muttered hoarsely, "You seem to have forgotten me kicking your arse out a certain plane?"

"Touché."

Alex tried to grin, but frowned instead. Wolf's face seemed to move about, refusing to stay in one place much to Alex's frustration. With a groan, Alex let his head fall into the crook of Wolf's arm as dizziness set in.

He'd lost weight, so it did not surprise him when Wolf easily lifted him up off the ground and tried to steady him on his feet. What did surprise him was the pain he felt at that action. A moment later, his head fell back against Wolf's chest as he blacked out.

….

The next time Alex opened his eyes, it was to see the worrying sight of trees and sky flying past his head. Blinking once, Alex flexed his fingers of his uninjured arm and felt the coolness of leather beneath his hand and then realized that the steady purr was that of a car.

He'd been laid in the backseat of a rather nice car. Something shifted under his feet and Alex listened as something was said about blood loss and malnourishment. He recognized Wolf's voice responding to what was being said. It took a moment to realize he was the subject being discussed, and that his feet were in someone's lap.

Lifting his head proved too difficult, so Alex closed his eyes and reassured himself that he was safe now. There was a hand that rested just below his knee, keeping his leg from sliding off the seat as the car traveled up the road to an unknown destination.

No more running, Alex thought. He let the lowered voices roll over him, coaxing him back into a deep slumber.

….

"His name is Hale Cycliff, he goes under the name Lesat."

Alex was handed a picture by Reed, who was a middle aged man heading over the division sent to save Alex from his capturers. Memorization had saved him many times, and Alex took his time to memorize the man in the photo. The dark complexion, frowning face, stocky form…but unfortunately he could not make out the killer's eyes behind the thick shades he wore.

"And you say he's been given the job of viciously murdering me?" Alex asked stiffly, shoulders sinking in a depressed slump.

"Or else he's a very persistent salesman," Reed told him sarcastically, trying to pull a smile out of the unhappy young man.

Reed had heard his fair share of stories about Rider, but seeing him was different. Stories became reality and in turn made them seem all the more amazing. He was not in awe, but not many young people had been able to gain his respect…Rider was one of the few.

Hair peppered with gray and laugh lines around his eyes, Reed frowned when Alex didn't laugh.

"Hmm, well, I was hoping to lighten your mood before laying on the worst news," he said grimly. Alex's head snapped up, eyes wary.

"Seriously? There's more?" Reed nodded, causing Alex to collapse back on the bed's pillows that had been stacked behind him. "Did a great uncle I didn't know I had die from a falling comet? Or…no, please don't tell me the Wizarding world isn't real?"

Reed tried not to smile. He had to oversee a group of rookies learning hand-to-hand combat with after this, his outward appearance had to stay stern-damn it, he was grinning.

"Hell no, of course it's real, don't be stupid."

Alex sat up, mouth curling up in a half-grin, "Then whatever you need to tell me can't be that ba-"

The door of the small bedroom slammed open and the man in the doorway winced guiltily,

"Oops, sorry." Eyes lighting upon Alex, Wolf smirked and strolled forward, "Hey, brat."

Forbidden to leave his bed except for using the facilities, Alex sat up straighter as he tried to fight back slight embarrassment. Fainting was one thing, fainting and then being carried away by someone who would hold it over his head, was another.

"Hey," he replied, and felt like the better person by not adding 'you jackass'. He'd only spent one other mission with Wolf, and had left on better terms with the man…but he'd never gotten over the distrustful feeling that had settled in his gut so long ago.

But then again, not a lot of people had stayed long enough for him to trust them. It was always death or betrayal, his own little soap opera and he was the only actor without a script.

Wolf's eyes searched his face and upon not finding what he was looking for, he grinned in a way that could only be described as wicked.

"What?" Alex questioned defensively.

Reed coughed, and Wolf's grin grew so that Alex was reminded of the Cheshire Cat. No one had the right to look that pleased….

"Wolf was injured out in the field a few weeks ago," Reed explained. "The injury keeps him from doing anything too serious. It's been suggested that we put let him be a guard dog, of sorts, just until he's healed thoroughly. There's no risk involved, MI6 think the subject will be hidden well enough so that Wolf won't even be needed. But the subject's gotten himself in trouble just by walking out the door. We're just using Wolf as a precaution."

Alex shifted, wondering why he needed to know this. "Okay, that's…great? I don't understand why I need to know this."

Wolf sat presumptuously in one of the chairs at Alex's bedside and leaned forward. "Let me explain in a way you can understand. Me Guard, You Subject," he finished that with a smile.

Reed sighed at Wolf's blunt manner and continued, "Ms. Starbright has been invited to join her parents in the Bahamas, quite a coincidence that they should win a trip at such a convenient time."

"Coincidence, yeah, right," Alex muttered, bringing a hand up to run it through his hair.

He sighed. "So, everything's already been planned?"

"Yes, we have transportation waiting for you. The doctor wants to check on you before letting us move you, and at the safe house."

It seemed that his future had been decided once again without any consent from him. Part of Alex wanted to fight, so what if another killer was after him, it wouldn't be anything new.

But…the rational part reminded him of Jack's safety, and that of his friends.

"Fine," Alex sighed. Reed laid his hand on Alex's shoulder momentarily, and looking up Alex saw the man's understanding face. The hand squeezed gently as to not hurt him, and Reed nodded.

"It should only be for a few weeks, Alex. You'll have communication available with certain people, and the house isn't shabby. Don't think of it as prison, and I can see that you do, but instead think of it as a retreat."

Alex didn't want a retreat. He wanted his friends, and the stupid problems that everyone else his age faced.

Nodding once, Alex stared down at his hands glumly. Reed smiled, but it seemed forced.

"I'll send the doctor in, then." He turned to Wolf, smile disappearing, "I expect nothing but the best from you, Wolf. This is a test just as much as it is a job. Do it right and you'll like the reward, do it wrong…."

Wolf clenched his jaw, and Alex watched in interest as he nodded firmly. "Yes, sir."

"Good," Reed continued to look at Wolf, a warning look on his face before turning to Alex and reaching out a hand.

Clasping it, Alex shook the older man's hand. "Good to meet you, Alex. I hope you'll continue to provide service to your country once your of age."

Alex had no response to that and watched silently as Reed left him alone with Wolf.

"I think Reed's explanation is better than yours," Alex smiled. Wolf seemed to think he'd still have some aspect of power over Alex in this situation, but according to what Reed had told Wolf, things weren't like that.

"Now let me explain in a way _you'll_ understand. Treat me like an equal, and we'll be fine. Let your attitude go back to your Brecon Beacon days, and you'll be in deep shit."

Though his expression stayed the same, Alex could see the surprise in Wolf's eyes. They stared at each other for a moment, neither moving…then, Wolf nodded. And so, with that, their wobbly, but respectful friendship began.

**Author's Note: **I thought maturity came with age? The mature thing to do would be to hide this story in a very deep hole, bury it and finish the story I've been writing for, what, 4 or 5 years? I just couldn't wait though, *shame* Happy holidays all! I'm going to see the grandparents today, spend all night waiting for morning, fall asleep at 4AM and wake up when my Mum jumps on my bed at 6AM screaming, "There's presents to open! WAKE UP!" The lack of maturity thing runs in the family, ;)  
Please review and tell me if I should continue writing-or start digging that hole!


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **Slightly grim death scene. Every Alex Rider fic needs one, *grin*

Carefully, as to avoid any further injury to his already bruised scalp, Alex rolled his head away from where he had been watching Wolf glare at the GPS mounted on the dashboard. It was pathetic, and unbelievably irritating-but, he would remain the collected one. Yes, he would not break down in sight of his moronic stubborness.

"In one point five miles, turn left," the monotone voice said, and once again, Wolf snorted in disgust.

"I don't think so," he muttered.

They drove past the turn a few moments later, and the GPS re-calculated their route.

"You have missed your turn. In half a mile, make a U-Turn."

Wolf slapped his hand against the steering wheel, "How do you make that damn thing shut up?"

Alex raised his eyebrows, and let a few words slip out gritted teeth. "You could just do what it says. You've never even been to this place, we're going to wind up in Exeter calling Mrs. Jones for directions!"

"Maybe I _want _to visit Exeter!" Wolf offered up smartly, and cast a moody glance over at Alex.

Alex imagined the conversation that was undoubtedly about to occur. 'Hey Missus J, we're about ten hours away from our destination-I know that seems impossible because we started out only 4 and a half hours away…oh, and we're lost, and we'd just love for you to come and pick us up! So, yeahhh.'

They'd been given a brand new Ford Focus hatchback to do with what they pleased. It was not as manly as Alex would have liked, but anyway, it was unlikely they'd use it at all after the reassurances that the house's cupboards were fully stocked. It was best to stay as close to the safe house as possible.

The sunlight bounced of the dark blue paint job as they rolled down the sparsely populated highway, wildflowers sprouted up in various spot, long grass bent in the wind as the car drove by. Every mile seemed to take them farther from modern society.

As much as Alex loathed the idea of being locked away with Wolf in some unknown location…he had to admit, MI6 did have a good reason. At least they were finally making an effort to keep him safe, instead of just sending him into another, 'less tedious' mission. Not once had the missions, in which he would play a large part, worked out.

He could not help but feel wary about this, he was under Wolf's care after all. The injuries he suffered made him very dependable on the man, and though Alex hated it, he was grateful to have someone to help him…but still, couldn't it have been someone he knew better?

After Alex had resigned himself to his fate, Reed had provided him with a detailed description of his would-be murderer. Lesat had a dark history of assassinations, none of which could be directly linked to him due to his creative methods. The few that had ever seen him kill in cold blood had not lived very long to tell anyone else.

Considering his talent in assassination, that seemed to rival even Yassen Gregorovich, Alex wondered how hiding him away would help. It seemed that if Lesat really wanted him dead, a couple hundred miles would not hinder his pursuit.

"In two miles, turn right."

"You moron," Alex added in an almost perfect impersonation. What could he say, he hadn't had practice in gentle reproofs. In response, Wolf's hands clenched around the steering wheel.

If Alex hadn't had his arm in a cast already, Wolf would most likely have punched him.

When they reached the turn, Alex was shocked into silence when Wolf took the advice and turned onto the small street. Perhaps the GPS was in the same shell-shocked position, because it took a few minutes to pipe up with new directions.

"In six point seven miles, turn right."

Though Alex had not grinned, smirked, or shown any sign that he had even noticed Wolf's sudden obedience, the other man grudgingly spoke.

"I knew how to get to the general area the safe house was in…but that's about all."

Alex nodded amicably, a grin fighting him the entire time.

He hoped that the few weeks he had to spend with Wolf would pass quickly. He had not even been given the chance to say farewell to Jack in person, since she'd been sent off to the Bahama's, of all places. However, he had written her a quick note reassuring her of his healthy condition (though that could be held in doubt), and had left the note with Mrs. Jones.

His health would certainly be held in doubt if Jack learnt what he had been through the last few days, and whom his new protector currently was. She knew a bit about Brecon Beacons, but in an attempt to keep Jack as worry free as possible, he'd held back from mentioning all the cruel tricks that had been played on him.

However, the cruelty of K Unit did not come close in comparison to the recent mistreatment he had suffered…but, that was better not thought about until later. He didn't trust himself to start thinking of such things now, the pain medication was wearing off a bit even now.

Anyway, it was over with. He had escaped that place, and escaped it with ease. The easy escape had surprised him, but he was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

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For the fourth time in the last six days, Mr. Romney jumped at the buzzing sound of a bee that he was unable to sight. Ever since that horrible mistake he'd made last Saturday, he had not been able to think clearly.

Once again, he cursed that Rider kid. If only he'd been stumbling along a _little bit _slower…

Romney had been given the job of shooting the Rider kid once he made it to the edge of the woods. It was supposed to stand as a sign for all the MI6 agents waiting lazily just out of sight. A sign telling them that they were irrepressible and dangerous. How shooting Rider and waving a banner that read "Serious Threat" would positively affect the group, Romney had been working for, he could not say.

The pay cut he and many others in the Riley Law Firm had suffered had driven him towards the group, and if using his impressive shooting skills on an unsuspecting teen meant keeping everything he had worked so hard for in this life; then, he would damn well do it.

That had all changed once bees came into the picture. Romney was a victim of anaphylaxis, a severe type I hypersensitive allergic reaction found in both humans and other mammals. It was not deadly as long as an auto injector (a dosage of epinephrine) was soon inserted into his bloodstream. But, out in the middle of the English countryside, with no hospital for miles, his fate was looking rather grim.

So, when his perfect aim at Rider's chest was interrupted by a familiar but dreaded buzzing in his left ear, well, Romney's reaction was far from graceful.

By the time he righted himself, and had stopped shaking enough to re-aim his rifle-Rider was gone.

Terrified, Romney waited as long as he could before making the long trek back to the main building. He had pondered making a run for it. After all, if these people would hire him to shoot a teenager, what would stop them from immediately killing him in sight of his clumsy mistake.

Luckily for him, it did not come to this. After he relayed what had happened to the man that had given him the orders to shoot Rider, Romney had been given a nod of understanding, and a muttered, "That is unfortunate."

Those words had frightened him at first, but he'd been handed half of the cash he'd been promised, and considering himself a blessed man, Romney had fled.

Now, several days later, he was back in London. He pulled his buzzing phone out of the front pocket of his large raincoat. He would have to get a ring tone, perhaps some reggae or techno tune, anything was better than the vibrating that sounded so much like his most feared flying inset.

"Hello?" he answered as he turned the street corner.

There was a click on the end and Romney frowned and placed his phone back in his pocket.

"Bloody people," he muttered, and was promptly knocked in the shoulder by another pedestrian on the bustling sidewalk.

"Bloody, buggering Hell, watch it you bastard!" Romney shouted in a spluttering fashion after the hood wearing man that promptly shot him a bird as he strutted away.

Thoroughly flustered now, Romney shoved his way into the building he'd been working at for the past thirteen years.

"Good morning, Mr. Roomly!" He glared at the chipper receptionist who was painting her nails a vile green color while talking on the phone to someone he'd bet his last pound on was not a customer. It aggravated him that she did not know his name, given, she'd only been working there for a couple of months…but he got the feeling she mispronounced it on purpose.

Up in his tiny, secluded office, Romney collapsed in his chair and rubbed at his forehead. From outside, the sound of traffic was almost overbearing. Breaks squealing, horns blowing and angry yells added to his tension of being at work after spending all weekend working as well. If you could call trying to shoot someone working. The last thing he wanted to do today was mess with someone else's problems.

He eyed the stacks of paper on his desk. Tons of cases waiting to be read, he had many calls from angry clientele wondering why they were not divorced yet, or why their neighbors had not been informed that they were going to be sued…

There was a knock at the door.

"Mr. Roomly, there's a package for you! It's quite lovely, such pretty wrapping!"

That was surprising, but Romney expectantly opened the door and accepted the large square box.

"Wow, It's heavy," he muttered, and the receptionist smiled.

"You're lucky, I never get such nice things delivered to me at work," she pouted. "I mean, I got a jolly pressie from an old beau-but then, a week later, he sent yellow roses. _Yellow! _I told him just a few months earlier, made it bloody obvious, I thought, that yellow is a color of roses best reserved for a grandmother and the like, but-"

"Yes. Thank you-whatever your name is." Romney shut the door slowly, enjoying the look of utter astonishment that the reception's face currently held.

From the other side of the door, he heard her "Humph!" in the light of his rude abasement and flounce away leaving him staring down at the brightly wrapped package.

Absent-mindedly, he pulled the little thank-you note off the package and began unwrapping it after glancing at the words written inside the note. It read, _For your aid in our difficult situation, thank you. _

Curiouser and curiouser, Romney thought with a grin as he eagerly pulled off the abundant wrappings. The only beneficiary he could think of that would give him a gift, was a thankful client…but who had he recently helped?

If he had looked closer, he might have noticed the tiny holes that let oxygen into the box. He also might have heard the low murmur that came from within, which sounded like a subdued crowd of people.

He didn't notice, so caught up in his own greediness as he was. Therefore, it was quite a surprise when he pulled off the top of the box and found it filled to the brim with dazed bees.

They'd been put into a sleepy state with gas, but as the lid was removed and more oxygen got to them, they began to awake.

As Romney gasped, and slapped the box away from himself out of reflex, he realized just whom this gift was from.

The momentum of his hurried shove sent the box flying off the table. It landed a mere few feet from where Romney had pressed himself, speechless with dread, against the wall.

Slowly the bees awoke. They crawled out from their box and started to buzz with anger at the mistreatment they had suffered. There were so many that it became difficult to determine one from the other until they took flight and each individual was separate and distinct.

For a moment, Romney forgot how to yell. His throat seemed to be closed up from terrible fear, the horrible sight in front of him more like a nightmare that real life. His mouth open, but no sound emerged. He was left gaping, and slowly the bees were becoming angrier, an gas that had been sprayed on them was wearing off.

With a shaking hand, Romney reached into his coat pocket for his phone. His fingers found nothing but air, and urgently he dug in the other pocket and again was left bereft.

"He-help-help!"

The boos took flight and focused their immense anger on the only living target in the room. Romney flung his arms out in either direction, desperately swinging as they closed in on him. That terrible buzzing rang in his ears, mixing with his yells and groans of terror.

"Someone help! Please!" Romney jerked as the first sting landed on his arm. Just one was extremely harmful, and as three more bees stung him in various places, he realized that he would not survive this.

"Roomly? What-what's going on in there?" The door knob wiggled, but no one entered.

"Help, damn it!" The poison had caused his mouth to go terribly dry, his tongue felt too large in his mouth and with every cry for help, his voice grew weaker.

From beyond the door, more co-workers were quickly becoming aware that something wasn't all well in Riley's Law Firm. A loud conversation began outside the door, but Romney only caught parts of it as his vision started to blur and sounds became vague.

The multiple stings caused pain all over his body, the suffering now becoming one massive haze.

"-I don't know-he's screaming, and the door's locked. Help me break it down already!" The door vibrated with the force of someone's shoulder against it.

His voice was now slurred as he called for help one final time, "Help…I didn't know…I'm…sorry."

Legs going weak, Romney slid down the wall, his head lolling to one side as three words echoed in his mind. His eyes closed against his will and his body stopped jerking, and a calm, familiar voice seemed to whisper to him, "_That is unfortunate_."

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"You have arrived at your destination."

Alex sat straight up from where he had been dozing off. MI6 certainly was serious about putting him far away from danger as was possible. This was a sight Alex didn't often see, fields of different crops, horses and the odd cow…he sincerely hoped their place of refuge would not turn out to be a barn.

"Where the hell is the house?" Wolf muttered as they drove up the dirt drive, rocks grinding under the tires.

"Perhaps they mean for us to camp under a tree," Alex offered, rubbing grit out of his eyes and pretending he did not notice Wolf's glare.

"I didn't drive this far to live under a tree for who knows how long."

As it turned out, they had no need to worry. The house came into sight within a few minutes, in which Alex took in the cozy scenery.

It was a Tudor style house with a steeply pitched roof, and as Alex looked closer, he saw the small window panes and large chimney.

"Wow."

Wolf drove up the drive the last few meters, and they both stared up at the house. The surprise that they both felt to find that the house in the woods they had been searching for, was indeed a real, live, genuine house, could be clearly seen.

"Why didn't you get kidnapped a lot sooner, Rider?"

Alex ignored the other man, and opened the door all prepared to go investigate his new surroundings.

"Uh uh."

Gritting his teeth at those two warning syllables, and trying to ignore the sudden pounding in is bruised head. Alex turned and reached in the backseat to grasp at the crutches the doctors had doomed him with. The leather squeaked with protest under him at his weird position as Alex started yanking on the crutches.

It was hard to get them out with only one hand, and he struggled with it until Wolf slowly came around to the back door, and pulled them out himself.

"Thanks," Alex said grudgingly as Wolf helped him with the crutches. "I don't see the use in this one," he muttered, gesturing to the other crutch that he could not use anyway due to his arm.

Wolf shrugged and then put the useless crutch back into the car. Then, he braced Alex and helped him up the path that led to the front door.

Though the grass needed a good trimming, the bushes and surrounding landscape looked well treated. The front door had a fresh coat of dark blue plate, and Alex carefully balanced on the patio as Wolf dug around in his pocket for the key.

The flowers looked freshly planted, vibrant colors that seemed to mock his less than chipper mood.

The door swung open a moment later. A burst of sweet-smelling cool air rushed out, and Wolf raised an eyebrow and turned to help Alex past the threshold. It was then that a feminine scream rang out, and as Wolf spun around, he knocked into Alex's uninjured arm, causing him to lose his balance and fall.

From his new place among the bushes and flowers, Alex looked up with a frown of pain marring his face to see just who Wolf had pulled his gun on. All the while he was thinking, that if this was what the rest of his stay would be like, Alex was quite prepared to limp away now.

**Author's Note:** Hi! See? I didn't abandon it, no, this story is no where near finished! Thanks for all those wonderful people that continued to review, even after a year! Wow, you guys are awesome. I'm so glad you like the idea so far, there is a lot more ahead. This chapter is just to let you know what's happening, they're settling into the safe house, and the man that was supposed to kill Alex failed and paid for it. So, of course, Lesat will be showing up in a future chapter. **Was my death scene good?** *Grin* My brother's thought it was lame...but they still play with Legos and make sound effects, so ha! I'd love to hear what you think will, should, or must happen! I've graduated, O_O And I'm starting two summer internships on Monday, wish me luck! **Please review! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

_From his new place among the bushes and flowers, Alex looked up with a frown of pain marring his face to see just who Wolf had pulled his gun on. All the while he was thinking, that if this was what the rest of his stay would be like, Alex was quite prepared to limp away now._

Wolf's face hadn't looked so severe since he'd come to aid Alex at Point Blanc and managed to get shot in the process. With his gun held steady, he aimed it at someone Alex couldn't see.

"Come here-no, don't put that down, just bring it here too," he instructed firmly.

Slowly, a lady dressed in teal yoga pants and a thin T-shirt appeared in the doorway, an open box in her arms and fear written on her face. She couldn't seem to take her heavily made-up eyes off of the gun Wolf was holding.

"I wasn't conducting business," she said slowly, pronouncing each word carefully, as if Wolf misunderstanding her would mean something quite bad for her.

Wolf frowned, "_What_? What are you talking about?"

She looked up at him, and her eyes roved over his attire. The button up shirt, the nice loafers, and khaki pants...clothing Alex was sure he had only worn because of his meeting with MI6 before whisking Alex away. The lady's expression changed from fearful to sultry in a matter of seconds. Her body posture changed too, so that the box was now positioned on one hip, the other jutted out to the side with her fingers resting against her hip bone delicately.

"Oh," she said, a sudden pout to her lips. "So, if you're _not_ from the government...I have a few minutes...would you like to come into my house?"

Alex found himself biting his tongue, the sharp reply, "It's _our house, _you ninny," never coming forth. He'd been knocked into the bushes because of this?

Wolf lowered the gun, but looked like there was a ping pong match going on in his head. Confusion and curiosity, knowing he should put the woman straight, but intrigued by the idea of following her...Alex saw all this, and with a great eye-roll decided to intervene.

"_Excuse_ me," he said, drawing out the word dramatically, as if he was truly sorry for having to interrupt.

The lady looked at him, and narrowed her eyes. "How'd he get _there_?"

"I seem to have fallen," Alex said, looking around at his bushy trap as if he had no idea how he'd come to be there. "Darling, dearest, would you be so kind to help me up so we can go view our new house?"

Wolf looked terribly confused. The lady's face however was worth all the hell Alex was sure to go through for that comment. She blanched, and then gasped.

"I...have to go. Sorry about-um, I was just moving out!"

As she sped past Wolf, the man's mouth dropped, and Alex saw the edge of some very racy lingerie hanging out of the box.

"What he means is-yes, we are the government-very straight government employees! And-this is our house-but not _our _house because we are living together. I mean...we _are_ living together-but not in _that_ way!"

The lady had already disappeared beyond the edge of the house, and in a matter of seconds, her car went past theirs and hurtled down the driveway.

Wolf turned to look at Alex, his hands in fists at his side. But Alex was laughing so hard that his tears of mirth blocked him from seeing that.

"I should just leave you there," Wolf said evenly.

Alex grinned up at him, "I'm sorry, next time I'll look the other way when you try to hook up with a prostitute."

"What? She wasn't a prostitute." Wolf made it sound like he was being hasty and mean with this rather quick judgement, which only strengthened Alex's resolve to prove she was.

He gave him a look, one eyebrow raised. "Yeah, she just invited you into her house of horrors because you're hot. The fact that you are dressed up like a banker or a lawyer has nothing to do with it." His tone radiated sarcasm, and Wolf blinked.

"But...I am hot," he said, looking down at himself, then back up at Alex with a wounded face.

Alex groaned, and flopped his head back, regretting he'd ever said anything. He struggled to get himself out of the bush, wondering why none of his training had ever gone into a problem like this.

Wolf came over and bent down, and hand on his knee the other stretched out to help Alex up.

The slight upturn of his mouth let Alex know that he'd been purposely dragging out the conversation. Meanwhile, Alex leaned up against the banister, awkwardly examining the scratches on the backs of both his arms. His gray long-sleeved T-shirt had not done much to protect him from the throes of the evil shrubbery, there was even a small rip in the back, if the cool breeze blowing against his skin was any indication.

When he looked up, he caught Wolf looking away, expression going clean when just a moment before he'd looked-apologetic?

"Sorry about shoving you, I wasn't really thinking about where you'd land."

Alex swallowed down any sarcastic reply, and accepted the apology for what it was.

"No need to apologize...so, anymore questionable women in there, or can I take a look around?"

If it wasn't the aches and pains that Alex felt with every step, it would have been easy to think of the safe house as a retreat, just as Reed had suggested. The wooden floorboards reflected sunlight from the nearest windows, and suggested of a recent cleaning. There was a smell of disinfectant in the air as well, and it tickled Alex's nose.

The foyer opened up into a huge living room with a light blue carpet and dark leather couches that sat in an L formation. A huge stone fireplace took up half the wall, and a basket full of chopped wood sat nearby. MI6 had even bothered to think of what they were supposed to entertain themselves with. A large flat screen television had been placed directly across from the couches, it was stocked with movies and different game stations.

Alex stared around at the room, and then gazed up at the high ceiling and the rafters-and then at the railing he could see. Which could only mean there was an upstairs, and more rooms to explore.

A grin spread out on Alex's face as his spirit of adventure, (which he was beginning to think had died after the last horrid mission) suddenly raised its head in interest. There was another room on this floor, but a quick glance told Alex that it was just a kitchen and he continued his search for the stairs. He wasn't quick at all, due to that one bloody crutch he was forced to use, but eventually, he found the stairs.

They were practically hidden behind a door that Alex had thought to be a closet.

Alex peeked around the doorway, and found Wolf immersed in examining the XBox games, quietly murmuring and exclaiming over them. Good. It was time to ditch the crutch.

Leaning it up against the wall, Alex grabbed the handrail that went up the length of the stairs, and pulled himself up. To appease the voice of Wolf in his head that scolded him, he was careful to put only the smallest amount of weight on his leg and foot.

At the top of the stairs was a small hallway that was lined with bright, wooden bookshelves. There was a doorway at each end of the hall, and Alex chose to open up the one closest to him.

It was a master bedroom, done in blues and creams with an adjoining bathroom that included a walk in shower. Alex ignored his face in the mirror and went back out to take a look at the other door.

Behind it, Alex found another bedroom, not quite as grand as the first and done in red and blues. For a painful moment, he was reminded of his bedroom back in Chelsea. It looked a lot like this, but the feeling of belonging wasn't there. He couldn't hear Jack talking on the phone to her mother in exasperated tones, or smell her home-made American biscuits, (one thing she had refused to give up when she moved to England). The window did not open up to show him the street, he couldn't hear the sounds of traffic or even the neighbors annoying Yorkie.

The homesickness seemed to wrap around his heart like a cold fist, and instead of just sitting in his chest, it _squeezed_ until it was almost painful to breath. God, he hoped that this would be over with soon.

The last mission had called him away from home, and now the after effects of that same mission was still keeping him away. It wasn't fair. But, since when had fairness ever played a part in his life?

Swallowing against the bitterness in his mouth, Alex turned to leave the room-and heard Wolf call his name.

"Alex? Where'd you go?"

Not wanting to get in any trouble with Wolf, at least not yet, Alex set off at a surprisingly fast pace, even with his half hop, half stride.

He had just reached the bottom of the stairs and managed to grab his crutch when Wolf rounded the corner where the doorway to the stairs were hid. He eyed Alex, and raised an eyebrow when it was clear that Alex was out of breath.

"Hard to climb the stairs with a crutch," Alex said brightly, "but I found the bedrooms! Mine is the blue and red one, I called dibs."

"No doubt it's also the larger of the two," Wolf grumbled, making his way past Alex and up the stairs to see the top floor for himself.

Alex grudgingly used his crutch to get into the kitchen, and then proceeded to hunt down a glass and got some water from the tap. After emptying it, Alex refilled his glass and sat down at the nice, though small, table for four. The table was situated in front of four large glass windows that looked out into the front yard. Two of the windows were flat, and the other two paned windows were at an angle that curved in. White curtains were tied at both ends of the windows, but Alex couldn't think of any reason to ever want to close them. Who was going to spy on them all the way out here?

Unless that creepy lady came back. Alex shivered.

Then, a scarier thought crossed his mind as he dark, hooded eyes gazing in at him. This place was supposed to be a safe haven. A place of solitude...but how safe were he and Wolf_ really_? MI6 had made mistakes before, horrible mistakes that cost people their lives...what if this man Lestat managed to find him and Wolf after all?

What precautions had MI6 really taken to insure that there was no way they would be followed by this man?

A heavy hand descended on Alex's shoulder. Within half a seconds time, Alex had sprung up from the chair and turned, arms ready to block any blows. His ankle cried out at the harsh movement, and Alex's breath caught in his throat at the pain that vibrated up his leg.

Wolf reared back, his expression a cross between amused and shocked.

"Whoa! Hang on a minute, Cub...it's just me."

A flush rose in Alex's face, and he sunk back into his chair muttering his apologies.

He could feel Wolf's eyes studying him from behind. "What were you thinking about right before I touched your shoulder?"

Alex looked at him over his shoulder, and then shrugged and turned back around to face the window. "I was wondering if MI6 would actually protect me this time."

Wolf was quiet, and Alex waited for him say something and walk away...but when the words came, it wasn't what Alex expected to hear.

"Cub...you shouldn't be worried about what they're doing to protect you. And, even if they haven't done everything in their power to keep you safe..well, that's why I'm here."

Surprise made Alex turn to look at him. Now it was Wolf that looked a bit red, but he seemed to swallow any embarrassment and his head came up a little bit higher.

"I won't let you get hurt."

Alex didn't know how to reply, and so he gave a hesitant little nod, a small smile appearing on his face. Wolf returned it with a grin, and added, "After all, I'm not getting paid to just be your nurse maid."

Refusing the childish urge to roll his eyes, Alex stood up and took his now empty glass to the sink. He really must have been thirsty! But, the doctor had said the pain pills might make him a bit dehydrated when they started to wear off. From the familiar aches Alex had been feeling for the past hour or so, they definitely had worn off.

"I'm going to unload the car. I want my stuff inside before it gets dark," Wolf said, and turned to leave.

"I'm coming," Alex said after his retreating back, but Wolf turned around again, and amused look on his face.

"What do you think you're going to carry with one arm? No, you just go sit down or something. There's not a lot of stuff, it'll all be inside in a few minutes-and then we can get some pain medication in you."

At Alex's surprised face, Wolf just nodded. "The doctor told me you'd need to take some about every five hours...and it's been five hours, don't think I'm shirking my babysitting duties."

Before Alex could scowl at him, or reply sharply because even though this was glorified babysitting, he _still hated _to hear it being called that, Wolf had turned and left the room. With a deep sigh, Alex decided he might as well try out the new sofa, it seemed he might be spending a lot of time on it.

Fifteen minutes later, Wolf peered at Alex over the top of the last box as he carefully set it down on the living room floor.

"See? No problem, now which box has your meds in it?"

Alex pointed at his bag, that lay on top of another box he was sure held all his school books and homework. "It should be in that one-but, Wolf, I can get it. I'm not bloody bed ridden..."

Wolf looked amusedly at Alex and unzipped the bag and began rifling through it with a small smirk on his face.

"If you don't take care of yourself you will be. And anyway, why is it so hard for you to just accept help from someone?" He held up the small plastic bottle and gave it a shake in Alex's direction, and then headed toward the kitchen with an upbeat whistle on his lips.

His words had caused Alex to pause and think. They'd struck at some hidden truth Alex hadn't realized was there...why was he so unwilling to accept the help Wolf was so valiantly trying to offer. One could even argue it was Wolf's job here to help Alex in any way he could, even with small things such as carrying in the luggage, or fetching medicine when it was obvious Alex felt ill.

It had been so long since anyone had done that for him though. Unless he was in a hospital, Alex had always been the one to dose out cough syrup when he felt a cold coming on, or gave up and fetched the aspirin when a headache became so fierce he couldn't think over the pain. It had been that way since he was eight. He knew how to read, Ian had taught him what to take and like with everything else, Alex knew how to follow directions and was quick to learn.

Or maybe it was something deeper than just his self sufficiency...maybe, and Alex winced at the thought...maybe he didn't want to accept help, because anytime he had dared to depend on others, something always seemed to happen to them.

Alex mentally shook himself. These damn thoughts could leave more scarring than anything else, and the last thing he needed was more scars.

The new ones he'd acquired at his latest mission were sure to add ripples in the gossip pool at school.

_Stop_, Alex chided himself, don't think about _that_ place.

"Here," Wolf had come back into the room, he held out the bottle in one hand, and a full glass of water in the other. At least he was letting him pour out the necessary number of pills.

While Alex was taking care of the pain relievers, Wolf had started to dig through one of his own boxes.

"Ah!" Wolf exclaimed after a moment, and started pulling numerous packages of junk food out and pilling them on the living room coffee table with reverence. "I didn't know what kind of food they'd stick us with-so, I wasn't about to come down here without a hefty supplies of Coconut Yum Yum's."

He looked down at his pile with admiration, and Alex grinned widely.

"_Coconut Yum Yum's_? Really?"

"Cub! Don't knock them until you try them-which of course you are not allowed to do. I don't care what Reed says, touch them and I'll knock you upside your blond skull with that crutch."

With that declaration, Wolf swept up his snacks and sweets and moved to put them away. Alex was sure the hiding spot Wolf chose would probably be locked up like a high security volt at Gringotts.

Looking around the room, which could have easily belonged to any wealthy bachelor, or a well off retired couple, Alex found himself wishing he could call Jack. She would have loved to hear all about the house, and she would have cracked up laughing about the lady they'd met earlier.

Alex smiled. Yeah, he really wished he could talk to her...or Tom...or, well, they were the only people he had that he could talk to. Any other friends had moved on, they might have attempted for a brief moment to remain friends...but, no one had really been persistent. It was kind of sad.

"You okay?"

Raising his eyes, Alex found Wolf watching him with barely concealed concern. "Meds are working, right?"

"Oh, yeah. It's fine." Alex sat up straighter, and Wolf went to close up the box that he'd fetched all his sugary foods from-and stopped half-way, a strange look crossing his face as he reached in the box.

It took a moment for Alex to realize what Wolf had slowly pulled out of the box. He looked on curiously as a slightly sad smile appeared on Wolf's normally smug, or uncaring face.

As if remembering he wasn't alone, Wolf looked up and Alex's eyes shot away to look out the living room window. Walking close, Wolf held out his hand, and carefully Alex met his eyes before taking the picture frame he held.

Wolf's family looked so happy. Frozen in time, their faces could have belonged to people that had just won enough money to live comfortably for life...but they were just standing on a dock in T-shirts and jeans, arms wrapped around each other as them smiled into the camera.

The sight of them so happy hurt, a physical pain deep in Alex's chest that he was mad at himself for feeling. He had no right to be jealous.

"Do you have a picture of your family?"

Alex loosened his hands where they gripped both sides of the frame, he was careful to clear his expression before looking up at Wolf.

"My family?"

Wolf gave him an odd look, "Yeah. You know, the weird people you grow up with. Sometimes you love them, sometimes you're sure you were adopted-those people."

Alex remembered the picture he had of his mum and dad, it was in his bedroom. In it, John, Alex's father, was standing happily beside his wife, their faces were so peaceful...then, only hours later, their plane had exploded. They'd been taken from Alex's life just like that.

He suddenly wished he _had _thought to bring pictures. He had a couple of Jack on his phone, where she had turned a somersault in the street, and one of her making her 'My-name-is-pudgy' face that always made Alex crack up. But MI6 didn't trust him enough to let him bring his phone, they'd said the temptation of contacting his friends could lead to his phone being tracked and their location identified. Alex had come close to yelling at them that he knew the circumstances didn't allow for calls to his best mates...all one of them.

Alex shook himself and answered Wolf's earlier question.

"I...I didn't even think to bring pictures. I wish I had," Alex said with a truthful intensity, as he glanced up at Wolf who was putting the picture back in his box carefully.

"Oh, well," Wolf said with a shrug, "you'll see them soon. I'll _have_ to see my parents as soon as we can leave; my mum doesn't worry, but my dad sure as hell does." Wolf grinned then, smiling as he perched on the edge of the coffee table across from Alex.

"Yeah, that man worries way too damn much," he said, "he would go on the missions with me if he could, but he's got a bad knee. Got it while he was doing pretty much the same stuff I do. I guess that's why he gets all concerned..." Wolf's eyes were kind of glassy, staring at something over Alex's shoulder. "For him, it just meant a bad limp. For me, it could be nothing, or it could be something a whole lot worse."

Alex had forgotten to breathe. He personally knew what 'a whole lot worse' meant. It meant small Christmases, and a lot of wondering what might have been, and regrets that he hadn't said 'I love you' one last time.

"Who's the worry wort in your family, your mum or dad?"

Alex blinked.

His mind was racing, and Wolf was looking at him expectantly.

How could he not know. Maybe it was vain of him, but Alex had been under the impression that most everyone knew his family had died...and his uncle...and that he lived with a woman that had once only been his babysitter.

It was weird, Alex decided. Wolf thought of him as a normal kid, with a normal family-who somehow worked for MI6. Yeah, weird was a good word for it.

He treated him like he would a normal person, no pity in his eyes, no awkward silences when family came up in a conversation.

And now Wolf was asking for an answer to a question that didn't exist. Alex had no idea who would have worried about him more, he'd never gotten to know his parents. It had been a painful thing for Ian to talk about, and Alex had asked questions rarely. Now, the only one left to worry about him was Jack, and while she was amazing...she was no mother.

This...this _peace_ offering Wolf was holding out deserved an answer, a truthful one. Yet, Alex just couldn't do it when he thought about Wolf's eyes taking on that shaded look of sadness. So many others had looked at Alex that way, seen him as a poor orphan in a bad situation. Alex wouldn't be able to handle Wolf looking at him that way. He just couldn't. Not now.

"My mum worries about me. Wears holes in the carpet with her pacing," Alex said jokingly, almost choking on the lie.

"Yeah?" Wolf said, smiling slowly. "Should have known you'd be a mummy's boy," he teased.

Alex ignored him, his mind warming to the mental image of a mother he hadn't known, that waited in the kitchen with the lights on, pacing or biting her nails like he sometimes did when he was worried.

"I mean, she knows I'll be fine, I only do small things, but it does not stop her from staying up late."

Wolf's look darkened a bit. "No offense..but you didn't look fine when I found you."

Alex looked away. "That situation was...different."

Giving a little huff, Wolf stood up and grabbed the box closest to him. "Every situation is different. They told me not to ask you any questions about what you do, but sometimes you _really _make me want to ask. I don't understand how your parents could just let you-"

"Don't bring my parents into it. Just...don't."

Wolf's expression closed so quickly that Alex immediately wished he had kept his mouth shut. They were making progress, Wolf-the same Wolf that he had once thought _hated_ him,had talked about his caring family. He'd expressed how much they cared for him, and that they worried over his safety.

Back in Brecon Beacons, the officer had warned Alex that the units residing there might resent his presence, had mentioned that some might be a bit difficult to deal with, might even be a bit aggressive towards him. K Unit had been no exception-until now. Wolf had offered him a glance at his life. It was something he probably did not do often.

Alex hadn't realized that until he'd seen the shuttered look come upon Wolf's face.

"I'm sorry-" he started to say.

"Naw, never mind."

Wolf hitched the box up higher, and went to carry it up the stairs. As soon as he was out of sight, Alex buried his head in his hands. Why had he lied? It seemed that even without MI6 around he was determined to make some sort of drama. Was the idea of being treated normal really worth lying over when Wolf was probably one of the few people on earth that would understand. But now...now it was too late, those words had damned Alex to living with the lie-or going through a very painful conversation.

He got the feeling that Wolf was not one to confide in people so readily as he just had with Alex. At least, Alex had never witnessed him conversing about family with any other member of K Unit before, mainly he had snarled insults at Alex and dismantled and reassembled his gun.

Wincing, Alex knew he couldn't tell Wolf the truth now. To admit that he hadn't been honest, would ruin any progress they had made. Worse, Wolf might go back to his old behavior. Alex was far from eager to pick up his old nickname Double O Nothing, no matter how true it felt.

It was only a couple of weeks. Alex had spent the better part of the last year pretending to be people he wasn't, he could do this too. He had to.

**Author's Note: **Alex, honey, don't you know that lying, no matter how harmless the intention, normally creates a lot of headaches later? Sigh. You will just have to learn the hard way.  
Sorry again, I'm sure you are tired of the weird updates that seem to only appear once a year...but one of my New Year's Resolutions was to finish this story! So...hurrah! Did anyone have a really funny resolution? I also resolved to lose weight, I lost 2 and a half pounds in one week-and gained it all back plus two extra pounds the next week. I can not begin to describe the amount of self-loathing that brought on, ^_^ I also resolved to read more, I've knocked out 7 books so far. If you want some recomendations...I have many, bwhaha! Please take a moment to review! They are sugar to my coffee, fuel to my fire, I adore them and the inspiration they bring. :D Thank you so much for your amazing support!


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Thank you so much for your continued support! :)

"Listen to this," Wolf ordered from where he sat at the counter with his laptop open to the news feed.

Alex looked up from his Biology text, relieved to have an excuse to stop studying even for a moment. Chromosomes were interesting, he could even read about the life span of a field cricket without yawning, but Alex had been reading steadily for forty-five minutes, and he was ready to take a long nap. The colorful picture between chapter thirteen and fourteen was starting to look like the perfect pillow to his rather tired eyes.

"Employee of well known law firm stung to death in own office_," _Wolf looked up to make sure Alex was listening, and continued. "Mr. Rufus Romney had only been at work for a matter of minutes, when the secretary heard his screams echoing down the hall. She and another employee tried to talk to Mr. Romney through the door, but received only muffled yells in response. When they finally managed to break the door down, they found him-ugh," Wolf said. "That's just a little bit too much detail. Anyhow, he was stung to death. No one is sure how the bees got in, but it turns out that the poor sod had a severe allergy to them. Oh, and the secretary had delivered a gift to Romney just minutes before the screaming was heard, the police suspect the bees were somehow contained inside."

Alex was sitting straight up in the chair, feeling rather queasy at the thought of what that man had gone through...and just who had been sick enough to do it to him.

"Someone was out for him," Wolf muttered, shaking his head as he skimmed the rest of the report.

Alex didn't say anything. He didn't think he could without sounding hoarse, and that would just draw attention to how much that report had affected him. The truth was...that sounded like how Scorpia would deal with someone they were displeased with. Or even how the people Alex had just escaped from would deal with someone they were unhappy with.

And thinking about them, either of them, was something Alex really did not want to do at the moment.

"How's your school work coming along?"

"Oh...fine. It's just a lot to do. I could probably work on the homework from just this Biology and still have some left to do when I get to go back home."

Wolf was typing something on his laptop, and after a moment, he shut the top and walked over. It was a mess. Sheet after sheet of assignments he'd missed, half written reports for different classes, notes from concerned teachers, warnings that he'd have to be pushed back a year if he could not maintain a steady attendance.

His other school books were pushed to the far side of the counter, and Wolf pulled up a stool to sit across from Alex.

Twice Alex tried to understand the paragraph in front of him, and then rubbed his eyes in dismay. The doctors had told him the weariness would wear off, but Alex wasn't willing to be patient with it. He wanted it to go now, he had too much work to do to take long naps like a toddler every day.

He went back to the book, and saw Wolf reading his 'assignments to complete' list. It was a long one.

"Just how many days have you missed from school?"

Alex didn't reply.

"I should probably change the wording of that to how many _weeks?_"

Alex bit his lip, and wrote down the answer to one of the more trickier questions he'd been looking for several minutes.

Wolf sighed. "I'm not going to talk about your parents anymore, I'm sure they do what they think is right for you-"

"I'm not sure how many weeks I've missed," Alex said quietly.

"Oh."

Wolf was silent for a moment. "I'm rubbish at sciences and literature, but if you need any help with anything else..."

Alex blinked down at his book. It was swimming slightly before his eyes, the text going blurry a bit. He forced his eyes shut.

"Thanks," he said, giving into the temptation to rub vigorously at his eyes again.

"You know you have a perfectly good bed upstairs? Maybe you don't know what it is there for."

Alex glared at him, and knew it was a very poor attempt when Wolf just raised his eyebrows. "It might be scarier if you didn't look half drunk with drowsiness."

"I don't want to keep giving into this stupid-blasted-uggghhh!" Alex mumbled, standing up resignedly to go upstairs.

Wolf chuckled at his dismay, and then made sure he used his crutch on the way upstairs.

"I'll...cook something, I guess," Wolf said called up after his slow progress up the stairs. "I'll wake you up when it's ready."

In his familiar bedroom, Alex threw down the crutch and practically fell on top of the bed. He groaned as it sunk beneath him. With his eyes closed and his body saying that yeah, he was a bit cold, but it was just way too much work to try and get under the blankets now, Alex started to fall into slumber.

He'd only been at this house for a day, and he was disappointed with himself already. He'd been determined to defy the doctor's orders of 'rest, medication, and more rest,' but after the long car ride, the incident with yoga-pants-lady, and all that blasted studying, he was utterly exhausted.

It might of helped if he had taken the sleep aid the night before. Nightmares had plagued him since his release from that hell hole, and only those sleeping drugs seemed to make them go away...but they were also addictive. That was what kept Alex from taking them every night, even when he woke up covered in sweat, and the feel of ghost hands still on him, trying to cause him pain.

But maybe the nightmares wouldn't find him if he just took a short nap...

He woke up confused. He'd not been having a nightmare, so why was Jack being so persistent in trying to wake him up? Alex tried to shake off her hand that was still lightly shaking his shoulder.

"Come on brat, I didn't slave over that stove for you to sleep the day away," Wolf's even tone said, and Alex remembered.

He was curled up in a ball on top of the blankets of the bed that was not really his, in the house he had never been to before.

His muscles protested as he uncurled slowly to stretch. Alex winced as injuries he's rather not think about twined with pain, and a light headache throbbed in his head.

"Most people sleep under the blankets," Wolf supplied from the door where he was watching to make sure Alex got up.

"Couldn't be bothered to," Alex replied, and cleared his throat at the gruffness of his tone. "I thought about it, and my body rebelled again the idea of moving anymore than it absolutely had to."

Wolf was silent for a moment, and Alex looked up from where he had been rubbing his eyes when he heard the man's footsteps retreating. Scolding himself for feeling so lazy, Alex stretched-and flinched at the various aches he hadn't expected to encounter. One would think that after coming in contact with so many different injuries in the past, that the pain from new, smaller ones would fade in comparison.

The memory of physical pain always seemed to fade though, and so there was nothing to compare one pain to another...did a twisted ankle hurt more than bruised bone?

The majority of all of his previous wounds had healed rather fast, even though they still left evidence of being there. Alex still felt a phantom pain when he laughed too hard, or did something to stretch the muscle that damn bullet had torn through.

As if by instinct, Alex's had went to his chest. A deep scowl marring his face as he rubbed the area around the wound. Just another souvenir gained by working for MI6. He wondered momentarily how many other times he had come close to serious injury, and no one had thought to tell him...or was he just getting caught up in teenage angst?

"Here."

Alex stood up, his face wiped clean of emotion as his hand retreated to his side.

"I guess that bush got you better than what I thought, I didn't even notice until I saw the back of your T-shirt just now." He was holding out a wet cloth, and Alex blinked at it.

"What?"

Wolf frowned at Alex's sharp tone. "The bush you fell in-" Alex blinked at him and Wolf continued with a sigh. "Cub, your back is bleeding through your shirt."

"Oh," Alex reached a hand back awkwardly, and found the wet spot with his hand and grimaced. "Thank, I didn't realize..." he took the cloth from Wolf, but the man continued to stand there and look at him.

"Do you need help?" Wolf said slowly, and it took Alex a moment to realize it, because he had not seen the look on Wolf's face before...but the shifting and almost pained look made him sure of it. Wolf felt awkward.

"No," Alex turned from him, grabbing a clear shirt out of his bag. "Mind if I use your bathroom though? I need the mirror to see the cut."

Wolf shrugged, "It's your bathroom too, Cub. That's why there's two ways to get inside it. So you don't have to walk through my room in the middle of the night just to take a piss, because that would not end well. Go on-I'll be downstairs, eating. Hurry down when you're done," he said as he walked away.

Alex stood still and listened with his head bent. When he was sure Wolf was downstairs and back in the kitchen, he reached into his back and grabbed the small bottle of peroxide he'd acquired from the doctor's and yet another long-sleeved T-shirt.

Not bothering with his crutch, he walked at a slow pace all the while keeping an eye out for Wolf and hoping the man would just stay downstairs until he could take care of his back. Once inside the bathroom, Alex flipped on the lights, squinted at how bright they were, and then turned to shut the door firmly. Just to make sure, he locked both doors as well.

Taking a deep breath, Alex placed the peroxide, clean T-shirts and wet cloth Wolf had given him on the counter and grasped the edges of the ruined one he was currently wearing. With careful movements Alex lifted the shirt over his head.

His arms protested at the movement, and when it was finally off, Alex threw it down with more force than was necessary. He hated to look, but he had to see how bad the damage was.

Bracing himself, Alex turned his back to the mirror and looked over his shoulder the best he could.

Alex had been careful to keep the extent of his injuries from Wolf. He didn't need to know.

Damn, he was already like an overbearing mother when it came to that stupid crutch. If he knew about this...

The cuts were thin, most made by an extremely thin blade and healing rather well. It was when these lines crossed and became larger wounds that Alex came into a problem. He'd know for a while that his habit of thrashing about in his sleep could get him hurt, but he'd been thinking more along the lines of knocking over a lamp...not re-opening cuts a psychopath had carved into his skin.

He must have had a nightmare and not remembered it...or maybe the thrashing was an instinct after spending all of a year trying to escape different situations and people.

Alex frowned at the thin river of blood drawing deep red lines down his back. He couldn't help but compare the sight to a painter's overloaded paint brush dripping onto a clean canvas-though his back was far from unblemished. Back to the situation at hand. How was he supposed to clean this up?

With careful, frustrating movements, Alex dabbed at the wounds with the wet cloth. The cuts were red and irritated, and Alex glanced at the peroxide wearily. The last thing he needed was in infection.

Grasping the bottle with a sigh, Alex stepped into the shower. He wrapped a towel around his waist, leaned against the shower wall with one arm, and carefully tilted the peroxide bottle over his shoulder to let it pour over the cuts.

The open wounds seemed to sizzle when the peroxide reached them, and Alex bent his head into the crook of his arm and gritted his teeth.

Around his feet, the peroxide dripped off his back. Looking down at it, Alex noticed it the peroxide was now tinged with pink. He closed his eyes and breathed through the pain. Reaching for a dark towel, Alex carefully dabbed at the mess that was his back.

He'd spent too much time in the bathroom already. Wolf would begin to wonder what he was doing.

Alex put on his shirt with care, and then put the other shirt over that...just in case the wounds decided to try and bleed through.

After cleaning up the mess, taking care not to leave any signs that he'd even been there, Alex dropped his T-shirt in his room along with the dirty towel and peroxide. He'd have to wash his clothes before Wolf tried to play caretaker and do it himself.

The crutch lay on the floor beside the bed, and Alex picked it and tucked it under his arm. It was almost a relief to feel it there, it instantly took some of the stress off his foot and leg, not that he'd ever admit it. He still felt like an injured soldier from some long ago war. Just hobbling along in life with the evidence of his past struggles and the resulting injuries always nearby, all the while wishing he could just throw the damned thing down.

Well, at least while he was still injured MI6 wouldn't try to use him. It was almost enough to make him fake his injury for a very, very long time.

Alex descended the stairs inhaling the scent of supper to try and determine just what Wolf thought was an acceptable meal. Cussing made its way to Alex's ears, and he paused at the bottom of the stairs. Along with baked chicken, the obvious smell of something burning was also obvious.

Biting his lip, Alex paused in the doorway and cleared his throat, a smile at the edges of his lips.

Wolf looked up from the oven, which he was peering into cautiously, and scowled. "Don't speak. Just sit down and keep your gob shut."

"How can I eat with my gob shut?"

"Shut it, brat."

Alex waited until Wolf had turned back to the oven and the blackened rolls inside before he made his way to his chair. He didn't dare lean against the back of the chair, even now his shirt seemed to be rubbing against the wounds of his back in a fashion that could not be good for the healing process. But he couldn't very well go around without a shirt, now without suffering Wolf's questions.

He wasn't about to go through one of the, 'how can your parents let you do this?' sessions again. Alex knew he wouldn't be able to lie that well a second time...not about a matter so close to his heart.

**Author's Note**: So, this lassie found herself a job! I work with darling little children..okay, sometimes they aren't darlings. Like when they bite...and spit...and throw food. *Grin* But it all good when they hug my legs and say, "I love Ms. Riyah!" *Melts* Haven't abandoned any stories, just getting my act together while working full time. :D Thank you all so much for the reviews! I greatly appreciate it! So please make my Inbox ring with happiness and review, THANK YOU! :D


	5. Chapter 5

When night began to fall and the few lasting beams of sunlight turned into moonlight, Alex looked around his new room and sighed. Four dry walls, and a roof above his head, and him, placed right smack dab in the middle of nowhere for his 'protection'. Food on the table, light to do all his homework by, video games to play if he ever got the urge...and yet all he wanted was for once to be somewhere he chose to be. Not somewhere he'd been placed or forced to go.

Maybe if MI6 left him alone long enough, he could get an after school job and Jack could get a new job too, if wasn't as if he needed someone to be at home when he got out of school. He hadn't needed that for years. Then, with both of them saving up maybe they could use that money to move away and not tell a soul...except maybe for Alex's few friends that would be genuinely concerned for him.

A small house somewhere a bit secluded, a new start and maybe even new identities if it had to come to it. Alex was sure Jack would have fun re-naming him, probably too much fun. He shivered a bit in dread as Jack's voice came into his head saying 'Alejandro!' and 'Frederico'.

"You cold?"

Alex jumped, and spun around. In the process he managed to loose his balance and fell sideways upon the bed. Using his elbows to push himself up, Alex tried to look casual as if he threw himself at furniture on purpose all the time.

"No! No, not cold. Just...lounging around and...contemplating."

Wolf's face was both worried and amused. "Right. I'll just leave you to your, eh, lounging."

Alex looked away as his face burned hot and Wolf shut the door. He closed his eyes fell back completely against the bed, trying not to sigh as he heard Wolf walking down the hall and chuckling. Shifting in discomfort as the cotton of his shirt rubbed against the wounds on his back, most of them not even scabbed over yet. Standing up, Alex quietly locked his bedroom door and discarded his top layers into the corner of his room. There, that was so much better.

It was for the same reason as hiding the fact of his parents being dead that Alex also took such measures to hide the injuries he still suffered from Wolf. He didn't want his pity.

Eventually, his wounds would heal, but if Wolf found out about them now, he'd be even more careful with Alex than he already was about the crutches. Even though Jack could be motherly, she knew Alex shied away from that and she made efforts to be concerned, but not overbearing.

Alex was not accustomed to anyone hovering over him, and even though it was not really likely that Wolf would be so bad, Alex didn't want to find out.

Double checking the door, Alex flipped off the lights and carefully stretched out on the unfamiliar but comfortable bed. He'd thought that after taking a nap, he wouldn't be so quick to find sleep again, but within a matter of minutes he found his mind drifting, his body going lax and his eyes closing of their own accord.

Soft light filtered in through the window, and Alex blinked once and then turned his head to get a better view of the world outside. It was early morning, and in a large, vibrant tree a bird sang a few short quizzical notes before flying away and a very light breeze caused the leaves to twirl on their stems as if they were dancing.

Alex blinked again, sat up, and began thinking of escaping. He found clothes and quickly and as quietly began changing. Escape.

The adrenaline started pumping at just the sound of the word in his mind and Alex grinned. He was just amusing himself though, it wasn't even a real escape because escapees didn't come back...so maybe it was better to call it an adventure. Even that was too big a word for what he was going to do, so, he said it quietly to calm himself and to dampen the excitement he'd been starting to feel.

"I'm going on a walk," he whispered...and a grin still lit up his face.

It wasn't too long ago that he had been chained to the floor and incapable of even standing up all the way because it was so short. Days had passed without any natural light. He'd never take the ability to move around freely (well, almost freely) for granted again.

And just in case Wolf woke up before he returned, Alex had decided to even bring his crutch. There, let Wolf find fault with that.

Warm in a t-shirt and sweater, wearing his jeans from the day before and carrying his shoes in one hand, Alex slipped out of his bedroom, shut the door with an almost silent click and made his way silently down the hall.

He could hear Wolf snoring heartily and bit his lip to keep from snickering, it would be hard not to bring that up later when Wolf tried to tease him for some characteristic or another. The stairs were difficult with his shoes in one hand and the crutch in the other but Alex went down them slowly and after a good three or four minutes, he made his way to the bottom without once making a racket that would alert Wolf.

Sitting in the kitchen, Alex put on his shoes and double knotted the laces. He listened until he heard the faint sound of Wolf still snoring, and why shouldn't he, the clock on the microwave told Alex it was only 6:58 in the morning, then, Alex made his way to the front door.

The huge bolt lock was probably the loudest thing he'd come across so far. As soon as he had slid it open, Alex unlocked the doorknob and stealthily as possible while holding a crutch made his way out onto the front deck. With the door closed firmly behind him, but left unlocked so he could get back in, Alex took a deep breath of the slightly sweet air.

It had taken him almost ten minutes to get out of the house from waking to standing where he was now. Much longer than what he would have normally been able to accomplish had he not been hindered by his damn injuries. Alex fought back a scowl, no reason to start thinking depressing things, he was free wasn't he? Just for a little while.

Alex made it to the gravel road, looked both ways and saw an seemingly endless stretch to his left and right. He decided to take the way opposite of how they had come in during the car ride here; he was looking for things he hadn't already seen, after all.  
The gravel really wasn't the best thing for using a crutch on, but he was not to be dissuaded. Not now when he'd made it out of the house into the fresh air. The sun was on his face, and he stopped there in the middle of that dusty road and just let the sun warm him.

Never again would someone keep him away from the sun. He'd never let someone put him in that situation again. Next time MI6 came calling, he'd just turn them away. If they dared to threaten him again with an orphanage or of sending Jack back...well, Alex knew people now, didn't he? He also knew things he was pretty certain they would not want repeated. And, if all else failed, he could certainly play the victim. Hell, he wouldn't really be acting anyway, he was a victim in some senses, though Alex would never be reduced to thinking of himself that way. Because if he was anything, really, it was a fighter.

He traveled down the street, the sound of gravel crunching underfoot was the loudest sound there was to hear. The nature sounds that did surround him were peaceful and soothing. Alex found himself thinking that he could quickly become accustomed to this strange quiet world.

As he walked, Alex saw the beginnings of a barbed wire fence that started near a large tree and went on until a forest much farther along the road cut it off. The field beyond the fence was rather tame in comparison to the overgrown ditches filled with wildflowers and brambles. Tall grass grew in abundance on the other side of the fence and swayed in a sudden warm breeze.

In the field stood a large dark creature with its side to Alex. The surprising sight made him stop again and blink before cautiously going closer. The horse wasn't moving, just staring straight ahead at something near the forest, it's ears twitching as it listened.

Leaning heavily on his crutch, Alex came to stop at the edge of the ditch and gazed at the rather impressive sight. He'd been taught to ride by Ian, and he had always thought of himself as rather good at it...but he knew that this horse wasn't one he would soon be galloping around on. There was something almost dangerous about it.

A breeze once again came and ruffled Alex's hair and just a few moments later, the horse turned its head sharply toward him and made a short huffing sound. He turned around and looked fully at Alex, eyes dark and endless. They stared at each other, Alex starting to notice the throbbing pain that echoed up the length of his leg, and then, the horse huffed again, turned away and promptly started nosing at the tuft of grass closest to his left leg.

Tension he had not known he was feeling eased, and Alex realized this animal had accepted him being in his presence.

He stood there several more minutes, just watching and determinedly not thinking of the rather long walk back he needed to start on. Wolf would certainly be up soon, and it would take Alex a good fifteen minutes to limp his way back to the house, and a limp it would certainly be. Though the crutch had come in handy, and Alex was glad that he'd grabbed it, it certainly had not stopped the ache in his leg once it had started after the first eight or so minutes of the walk up and down the long winding road.

With a sigh, Alex called, "See you later, horse!"

In return, he got a rather snooty look and the animal didn't even bother a huff before going back to his breakfast. Alex grinned a little, thinking the horse almost reminded him of a Wolf he'd known not too long ago, one who wanted very little to do with Alex other than making him feel like rubbish.

But maybe, just maybe, like Wolf had, the horse would slowly become adjusted to his company.

Alex had taken three steps before he stopped and listened. His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to understand what it was he was hearing and where it was coming from.

Behind him, still concealed by the woods there was the droning of a motorized vehicle. The sound was so odd amongst the calm nature that surrounded him that for a long moment Alex felt unsure what to do, should he hide? The vehicle was headed towards him, and out here in the open there was really no where to hide...unless the horse stood very still and allowed Alex to stand behind him.

Nervously snorting, Alex turned to watch for the approaching vehicle.

He was rather surprised when it turned the corner, and not because it almost tipped over due to the haste in which the driver was going. No, Alex was surprised because it wasn't a rowdy four-wheeler hurtling towards him and making a huge amount of noise as it did.

It was a golf cart, with a white headed older man hunched over the wheel, and it was covered-no, absolutely layered, with stuffed animals.

The multicolored, fluffy monstrosity had Alex rather wordless and gaping as if the words he needed would just fly into his mouth. Instead, it was a small innocent little bug that flew into his mouth and tried to dive into his throat because it was opened so wide.

Alex was still trying to cough the insect up when the golf cart came to a rather abrupt stop beside him.

Eyes watering from gagging, Alex looked up, now clinging to his one crutch with both hands. It was a sight to behold; from this close up he could clearly see that each individual animal was stapled onto the golf cart at different angles until all that was left to see was the beige seat in which the driver sat and the steering wheel which he was gripping with both hands.

Alex blinked at the man, wishing he could think of something to say other than, "Urghfff?" so, of course, he simply stared and waited.

The man had permanently narrowed eyes, as if the world and everything on it was slightly idiotic or disdainful, a head full of white hair without any semblance of order and dirty overalls with a black undershirt completed the picture. He squinted at Alex and his already frowning mouth seemed to frown more as his eyes roved over him.

As the rather bright blue eyes came back up to his face, the man cleared his throat.

"And whose little population explosion are you?"

Completely taken aback, Alex let loose a high-pitched laugh...which he promptly cut off when the man looked concerned.

"Er, I moved in just up there-"Alex gestured clumsily, still holding onto the crutch awkwardly.

"With your parents?"

"Um, no."

"Relative?"

Alex frowned. He was a nosy neighbor, then. Instead of replying, Alex just shook his head and then wondered why he hadn't just agreed to get the man to stop asking.

"I'm staying with a friend," he put in firmly, before the conversation could go on any further.

The old man frowned at him again, "Not one of those prostitutes, I hope," he growled, "I thought the local law enforcement had run them all out."

Alex gaped at him, while in the back of his mind there was a voice cheering, Wolf _had_ been hit on by a prostitute. His evil side cackled with laughter.

"No, no, no, he's just a friend!"

"He," the man nodded grimly. "He's one of them 'sugar daddies' then, I've heard of them. You ought to know better, boy!"

Alex didn't know if he'd ever be able to get his jaw back into place. This old buzzard wasn't really implying-oh, but he was.

"Hang on!" Alex said, trying to not grin, because that would not help, "Wolf is not-"

"Wolf? Of course he'd go by a name like that, preying on innocent kids! I guess you are 'little red riding hood' or some such nonsense!"

"Oh my God!" Alex yelled, throwing both hands in the air and then lunging for his crutch before it fell onto the road. "Old man, you are drawing crazy-insane conclusions, just...stop! Hold on! Wolf is just a nickname-and not a dirty nickname, he is just a friend staying with me until I'm better! We didn't even know the kind of things that went on in that house before we moved in-ew!"

_I slept in that bed!_ Alex thought with a grimace.

The man was watching him, and seemed to approve of something, because he nodded and gestured at the empty seat beside him. "Might as well drive you home, you look like something that's been run over."

Alex hesitated only momentarily before gingerly sitting down and place his crutch between his legs with his knees keeping it from moving around.

They took off with a fast lurching motion as soon as Alex was seated. Reaching up quickly, Alex's hand searched for something to hold onto and found the fuzzy sides of a stuffed pink rabbit. Oh well, it would have to work.

"Um, what happened to-" Alex waved his other hand to encompass the golf cart.

The man grunted, and at first Alex thought that was the only reply he was likely to get. "My wife's idea of a joke," he said eventually. "She had boxes and boxes of rubbish, newspapers, chipped china, old stuffed toys...and they were in these huge boxes, not small easy ones to move, but huge ones-about the length of you. I told her if she was smart she'd put them somewhere where they could be transported easier..."

Alex glanced at him to see a rueful smile on his face, and noticed his eyes were gleaming with amusement even though his voice didn't really show it.

"So...she stapled them all over my golf cart and said, 'There, now you can transport them with you whenever and wherever you go, enjoy, you old fart!'"

Alex bit his lip and glanced out of the golf cart so his face could burst into a smile. "She sounds like...quite a character," he said once his voice was controllable and he was sure it wouldn't turn into laughter the first time he tried to talk.

"Hmmph. She's something."

There was a few moments of silence-except for a terrified screech of a squirrel they came inches from running over.

"I'm Alex," Alex offered eventually and the older man glanced at him and nodded.

"Emmit," he said gruffly.

They rounded a curve and Alex swore he felt the wheels come off the gravel for a moment, glancing behind him he saw huge amounts of billowing dust that seemed in no hurry to settle on the ground. When they reached the house, Alex was trying to determine just how long he'd been away. Conversing, or _arguing_ with Emmit had taken a good amount of time, but catching a ride from him and his golf cart from Hell had certainly made up for that. They golf cart slowed as it went up the drive way and Alex got his answer from the icy glare pointed at him from the lone figure on the front porch. Alex winced noticeably, and Emmit glanced at him and then at Wolf who was trying to maintain his glare while taking in the huge, fluffy eyesore that Alex was riding in.

"_Looks _like a sugar daddy too," Alex heard Emmit mutter to himself and had intense difficulty not smiling.

"I'd better go," he said instead as he hauled himself and the crutch off of the small vehicle, "Thanks for the ride, Emmit. Tell your wife I said 'thanks for the laugh."

Emmit eyed him and then glanced at Wolf who was still standing in the same spot, with his arms crossed over his t-shirt looking mightily pissed off. He leaned closer to Alex suddenly and said quietly so Wolf wouldn't overheard.

"If you do ever need help, with anything, you better not hesitate to call on me," He looked at Alex seriously, his eyes shining with sincerity and Alex nodded back.

"Thanks...I'm really safe here, though. He's just mad because I didn't tell him I was leaving."

Emmit sniffed loudly and said, "Just remember what I said."

With that, Alex hurriedly stepped away as the golf cart whipped around, one large teddy bear flapping around crazily from the roof almost as if it was waving goodbye. In a matter of moments, Emmit was out of sight with only a trail of dust to suggest he had ever been there.  
Squaring his shoulders, Alex turned to face Wolf and his unsteady temper. Really, he'd brought it on himself, he could have at least left a note-that's what he would have done for Jack...but Wolf wasn't Jack, and her didn't want to start thinking of him as a caretaker.

Alex climbed the stairs to the front porch slowly, and tried not to let it show just how much he was hurting. He really should have thought about taking his medication with him, but the thought of a brief freedom had run all of his sane thought to the far corners of his mind.

He came to stand beside Wolf, who wasn't at all inclined to be the first one to speak.

"I didn't think-"

"Obviously," Wolf snapped.

Alex frowned at met Wolf's dark gaze unflinchingly. "_I didn't think _I'd be gone so long; I just walked up the street, not even a two miles away-and I certainly didn't expect to run into our senile neighbor, who thinks you're my sugar daddy, by the way."

Wolf blinked, and his tightly folded arms seemed to loosen on their own. "_What?_"

"Yeah, that was my response. Apparently MI6 set us up in a house that was previously populated by prostitutes and druggies, though I bet they didn't ever expect us to find out."

"What?" Wolf said again, voice slightly incredulous. "Oh-ew, _I slept in that bed!"  
_

Alex grinned, but he sobered quickly when he saw Wolf taking in the way he was leaning the majority of his body weight onto his crutch.

"Cub," Wolf sighed, "I got shot a few short months ago, and I can't do what I used to-yet. That includes running up and down old country roads looking for you whenever you decide to do a dissapearing act. As much as you hate it, and don't think for a second that I'm thrilled with it either, we are both going to have to work together. If you want to get out of the house-fine, but tell me where you are going, and if you plan on walking even a half a mile away from the house, than you'd better believe I'm coming with you."

Alex bit his lip and nodded, "Okay...I'm sorry. I'm paying for my actions right now, if that makes you feel any better."

Wolf suddenly looked angry, "You think I'd be happy, because you're in pain? Cub-that's, I'm not that way. I'm not a complete bastard."

"Sorry," Alex muttered. "I'm just sick of felling sick, and weak-when am I going to be back to normal again?"

Wolf sighed again and pushed his hair back with one hand. "Doing some daily exercises would certainly help, nothing to make you collapse in exhaustion, just something that would help build your strength back up. Hell, it would probably help me too."

"That...doesn't sound as awful as it could," Alex said and then grinned at Wolf.

"Don't get cheeky on me, brat," Wolf said, but he was smirking when he said so.

"Maybe, if you ask nicely, I could even teach you some of my awesome moves," Alex went on, and yelped when Wolf acted like he was going to wallop him upside the head.

"Yeah, sure," Wolf intoned sarcastically, "like falling into bushes, or how to trip onto a bed and yet land in a _lounging _ position."

Alex grimaced, "Didn't fool you, huh?"

"Not even a little, Cub." With that, he patted Alex on the back and led the way inside with Alex following behind with a small smile still on his face.

_That, _he thought to himself, _went a lot better than I expected._

**Author's Note:  
**It seems that most Alex Rider fanfiction authors will introduce original characters that are young and female (a new girlfriend or love interest for Alex) or a male protector that joins K Unit to keep Alex safe...I, however, bring you two senile old people! You can thank me later, *winks*  
I love old people, Emmit's wife is based on my grandma (Jojo) who drives her golf cart like she's a Nascar driver. Love you Jojo! **  
Please review! **I'd love to hear what you thought, and constructive criticism is always a blessing, thank you! Oh, and **HAPPY BELATED NEW YEAR! Hope you like your present, ;) **


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